


Every Little Thing

by Sparrow (hersilentlanguage)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, United States of Auradon (Disney)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow
Summary: A series of stand-alone drabbles (between 500 words and 1K) exploring various Rotten OT4 dynamics.1.Marlos(prompt: face-painting):Carlos has a broken arm, so Mal offers to help him with his eyeliner.
Relationships: Mal/Carlos de Vil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Every Little Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing a lot of drabbles and oneshots lately since they're fun, good practice, and easy to squeeze into my work schedule. From now on, any drabbles I write that are over 500 words, but less than 1K, will be posted here as a chapter. Any drabble included here will check the boxes of fluff, humour, domesticity, and/or light romance. There may be minor angst at points, but I'll let you know in the summary if that's the case. All drabbles will be T-rated (nothing graphic or explicit).
> 
> These drabbles will explore various Rotten OT4 sub-dynamics (Jaylos, Malvie, Marlos, Jayvie, Carvie, Jal). I'll mark which dynamic is emphasized in any given drabble at the end of the "chapter titles" (note: each chapter in this work is a stand-alone fic unless otherwise stated in the summary, so you can read them in any order).
> 
>  **This first drabble (750+ words) was inspired by a prompt from @fuck-you-i-am-spiderman (Tumblr), who requested "Marlos + face-painting."** I interpreted that pretty loosely and ended up writing about Mal helping Carlos with his eyeliner because he broke his dominant arm and can't do it himself (not that he wasn't trying; she just insisted on helping). ;)
> 
>  **CW:** casual swearing, mention of knives, and some crude humour (mild)

Carlos squirmed where he sat on the edge of his bed, not at all convinced this was a good idea.

He’d been content to try and do it on his own, however difficult—but trust _Mal_ to barge in and tell him he looked like a clown and to just let her do it before he poked his eye out or something—

(Like that wasn’t _more_ of a risk now that she’d sharpened the pencil with her goddamn biggest _knife._ )

“Hold still,” Mal muttered, grabbing Carlos’ chin to tilt his face up toward the light.

He eyed her warily as she drew nearer with the point of the make-up pencil. “Mao...” he tried to say without moving his jaw. “You _rally_ dan ha…” Mal squeezed his chin a little harder, giving him a look that plainly read, _‘Stop talking.’_ He huffed a little, continuing to eye her as she traced out a thick line of black beneath his bottom lashes, smudged it out, then went to do the same across his upper eyelid.

When Mal pulled back to study her work, Carlos went instinctively to rub at his jaw, only for the weight of his cast to stop him. His eyes flickered down to his mummified left arm, and a shadow crossed his face that Mal seemed to catch, because she grabbed his chin again, raising his eyes—

“Hey, pound puppy,” she teased with a smirk, “you wanna save some moping for Evie and Jay?”

Carlos scoffed, glaring at her in a way that translated as more of a pout to her eyes. He was otherwise quiet as she leaned in to finish, so she broke the silence by telling him smugly, “You should trust me more, you know.” (He quirked an eyebrow at her.) “I’m just saying, it looks better when I do it.” Her lips curled in a smile that showed the point of her fangs. “No, seriously, you look, like… 10% hotter.”

Carlos made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh. He looked both amused and flustered, his dark eyes bright with humour and his face tinged as though Evie had been at him with her blush again.

“All I’m hearing,” he replied when Mal finally released her iron grip on his chin, “is you think I’m hot.” He grinned as he watched her expression shift rapidly from smug to surprised to frenzied.

“Wha— _shut up,_ I do not! _”_ Mal snapped, the red blaze in her cheeks spreading down to her neck.

“You said it, not me,” said Carlos, chuckling as he stood from the bed to find a mirror. (He trusted Mal—maybe more than she knew—but she was a witch, and so, the odds that she’d come that near to his face with a drawing utensil and _hadn’t_ found a way to draw a dick on his cheek weren’t _zero._ )

Mal jumped to her feet before he could step away, moving in so close that he was forced to sit down again. “Ten. Percent.” Mal braced her arms on either side of his hips, leaning in to where he couldn’t help but flop onto his back with a soft _“oof.”_ He made a face at her, slowly bringing his right arm up to cradle his cast protectively. “The baseline was zero,” Mal continued, jabbing a finger at his belly.

Carlos rolled his eyes at her dramatic denial. “Fine, whatever,” he deadpanned. “I’m 10% hot.”

Mal began to nod, like, _‘Yeah, now you’re getting it,’_ about to actually respond when Carlos lifted his good arm and pressed a finger to her lips. “According to my calculations,” he said seriously, with a hint of pity enough that Mal started to frown, “that means you have pretty low standards, huh?”

Again, he watched with amusement as Mal processed the words in real time, her face sparing none of the details. She always had worn her heart on her sleeve—right next to the dagger concealed there.

“Shut your mouth, De Vil,” she growled, no real threat to her tone.

“Do it yourself,” he huffed, reaching up with his good arm to fist at her shirt and pull her down into a kiss that lasted only seconds before she lost her balance and collapsed on him. “Ow, ow, _fuck,_ Mal!”

“Shit, _shit,”_ she uttered in chorus, quickly shoving off the bed and straightening herself out, standing over Carlos with her hands on her hips while he made no move to sit up, himself. “See, _this_ is exactly why you’re not hot—” (She side-stepped to avoid Carlos’ lazy kick at her shin.) “—you’re _adorable.”_

Carlos made an indignant noise, and promptly flipped her the bird. “How’s _this_ for adorable?”

“Like a 5 out of 10.”

_“Tsh.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, but no pressure. <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for lots more Descendants content: [@hersilentlanguage.](http://hersilentlanguage.tumblr.com)


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